


Where Are They?

by fireworksinthenight



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure, Crazy, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-07-25 13:11:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16198214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireworksinthenight/pseuds/fireworksinthenight
Summary: In the show, no matter how far out of their reach the turtles' weapons fly, they are always back next episode… How convenient. A not very serious oneshot, to say the least.





	Where Are They?

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't begin writing this because I was procrastinating, no, I didn't. These things never happen.  
> Anyway, I had the idea and the beginning, so it would have been a shame not to finish it, right? Oh, and I should probably say that credibility wasn't my main concern here. I hope you still enjoy it!  
> 2012 turtles. I don't own them.

"Nice job, guys!"

On one of the many rooftops of New York City, a shadowy figure was smiling to three other shadowy figures. At their feet lay dozens of suspicious bumps.

"Do you think we have been too hard on them? They look like newbies."

The new voice was worried. Its owner bent over one of the bumps.

"They were trying to kill us, Mikey. But if it can reassure you, I will check up on them for you."

The shadow who had just spoken casually kicked one of the bumps, who groaned.

"See? They will recover in no time, and come back at us."

A fourth voice was heard.

"Very nice, Raph. I didn't expect less from you."

That voice seemed only mildly annoyed. Its owner's innate compassion was tempered by the fact that he just had to fight for his life.

"Hitting an enemy lying unconscious on the ground is dishonorable," the first voice scolded.

"It was for a good cause. Mikey was worried." The reply was unashamed.

Someone sighed heavily.

"Whatever. Let's go back to the lair. Go ahead, I'll be right behind you."

* * *

Leonardo watched his brothers depart. He stepped over the unconscious bodies of the Foot ninja. Michelangelo was right, they had been newbies and clearly no match for the mutant turtles.

 _I pity the ninja who will have to report to the Shredder about this_ , he thought.

The fight had still been intense, if only because of the Foot ninja's obscene numerical superiority, and at some point one of Leonardo's katana had flown out of his reach.

Nothing unusual – it happened from time to time, despite Leonardo's best efforts to keep hold of his weapons.

Leonardo scanned his surroundings and frowned. His katana was nowhere in sight. Maybe he had flown farther than he had thought?

Leonardo went down the building to search the alleyways close by. He didn't like the idea that his weapon had reached street level – falling pieces of sharp metal were dangerous for innocent citizens. At least this area wasn't much visited.

Leonardo's mood went darker when he realized that his missing katana wasn't there either. Where could it be?

He searched the garbage cans, every possible dark corner, climbed back up on the rooftop, lifted every unconscious Foot soldier, but he didn't find his missing weapon.

Leonardo had lost one of his katana.

He was on the verge of panicking when he noticed a shadow not far from him. The shadow obviously was a ninja, and a far stealthier one than those he and his brothers had just beaten. Had they missed a Foot ninja? Was he the one who had stolen one of his precious swords?

Leonardo narrowed his eyes and silently came closer to the suspicious shadow. He unsheathed his remaining sword, got ready to jump at the unsuspecting ninja, and…

"Raph!"

Recognizing his brother, Leonardo sheathed his katana and landed next to him instead of on top of his head – and if his landing was less graceful than usual, it could still look like he had intended it and not like he had mistaken his own brother for a soldier of the Shredder.

"What are you doing here?" Leonardo asked him, hiding his embarrassment behind an annoyed tone.

"Uh, Mikey was really worried about these newbies, so I decided to check each one of them," Raphael answered noncommittally.

Leonardo lifted an eye ridge.

"Sooo… why are you in the alleyway instead of on the rooftop?"

"Well," Raphael answered hesitantly, his eyes darting glances at his surroundings as if he was searching for something, "I wanted to make sure that none of them had fallen, you know?"

"Your concern is remarkable," Leonardo said slowly.

Raphael averted his eyes.

"And you?" He replied, not-so-craftily changing the topic. "You're sure taking a lot of time. Didn't you say that you would be right behind us?"

Leonardo coughed.

"I… You see, the view was so amazing here… I wanted to enjoy it for a bit longer…"

Raphael frowned. He could tell when Leonardo was lying from a mile away, and his brother stood only one meter from him right now.

"It's one of the poorest areas of New York City," Raphael remarked, coming closer.

"Still," Leonardo went on, digging himself in deeper. "There is something about this place that makes it really special…"

Raphael crossed his arms, looking his brother in the eye.

"The dirt? The broken street lamps? The garbage cans? The garbage next to the garbage cans?"

Leonardo went quiet, narrowing his eyes and matching Raphael's stance. Okay. So it wasn't a very convincing explanation. But hey, he couldn't tell his brother that he had apparently lost half of his weapons' set, right? Raphael would make fun of him until the world ended. Not to mention that his brother was lying to him, too.

Leonardo opened his mouth to say something, anything, that would distract Raphael, when he suddenly noticed something that explained the red-clad turtle's strange behavior.

One of Raphael's sai was missing.

At the same time, Raphael took in the empty sheath on Leonardo's back.

The two brothers looked at each other, eyes widening in comprehension.

"YOU TOO?!"

* * *

"What are we going to tell Splinter?" Leonardo wondered anxiously.

They had searched and searched – Leonardo had texted Donatello and Michelangelo so they wouldn't worry - until they had to face the facts: Leonardo had lost one of his katana and Raphael had lost one of his sai. And now, two very defeated turtles were coming back to the lair.

"Are you crazy?" Raphael exclaimed. "Why would you want to tell him anything?"

"Because it's obvious? Because first thing next training session, he will notice and crush us twice, one time for losing our weapons and the second time for not telling him right away?"

Raphael shook his head in complete denial.

"No, no, no. There has to be another way."

"I'm all ears, Raph. What's your brilliant idea?"

Raphael stopped and crossed his arms, looking Leonardo in the eye with intensity.

"We tell Master Splinter nothing. We find our weapons before tomorrow morning."

Leonardo rolled his eyes.

"Awesome plan, Raph. May I know the details? I'm curious to learn how you intend to achieve that."

Raphael shrugged.

"You're the plan guy. Figure something out."

"Easier said than done. If I had an idea, don't you think I would have shared it already?"

Leonardo shook his head, irritated. Raphael grasped his shoulders to better make his point.

"At least, let's wait until tomorrow morning. Maybe something will come up. Come on, Leo, don't you want to avoid that talk with Master Splinter? We lost half our weapons. Weapons that can't exactly be found easily in the sewers. Or on the surface, for that matter. He's going to kill us."

Leonardo bit his lip.

"He's not going to _kill_ us," he protested weakly. "Not literally."

Raphael felt that his brother was giving in and insisted.

"It's still going to be painful and you know it. It's just a few hours, Leo. Doesn't he always say that we have to fix our own mistakes?"

Leonardo took a deep breath. It was true that Splinter said that on a regularly basis. Still, the ninja master would certainly not appreciate to see his own wisdom turned against him. Leonardo hesitated before sealing his fate.

"Fine. We'll wait. But we still have to tell the guys."

"Do we really have to?" Raphael grumbled. "They're bound to laugh at us. Badly."

"Yes, we have to. We'll need their help. Maybe Donnie will have an idea."

Raphael sighed and prepared himself for the unavoidable.

* * *

"You what?" Donatello told them, looking as if he had just been given a wonderful gift. "Can you repeat what you just said? I'm not sure I understood correctly."

"We lost our weapons," Leonardo repeated, very faintly.

At his side, Raphael did his best to look dangerous. He flexed his biceps, took a threatening expression and clenched his fists. The message was clear: _I'm not a turtle you can mess with. So don't._

Leonardo and Raphael had decided to come to Donatello first, to test the waters. There was a slight chance that he would be compassionate.

Donatello watched each of his brothers in turn, before bursting into laughter. Raphael deflated, resigned.

"I can't believe it!" He articulated between two hiccups. "You. Lost. Your. Weapons."

"Only half of them," Leonardo muttered, blushing.

"At least we didn't break them," Raphael retorted angrily. "Like another turtle I know."

Donatello stopped laughing and watched him, eyes narrowed.

"Wrong move, Raph," he answered. "I might have showed you some mercy – after the initial shock, that is. But now, I certainly won't."

The purple-clad turtle hurried to the living room.

"Hey, Mikey! Come here! You're going to love this!"

Leonardo glanced at Raphael, clearly annoyed.

"You _had_ to get on his nerves."

"He's the one getting on _my_ nerves!"

Michelangelo arrived immediately and looked curiously at Leonardo and Raphael.

"What's the big deal, guys?"

"Mikey," Donatello said, taking a solemn expression. "Our two brothers here – these great fighters, these excellent ninja, this _A team_ – have just told me that they somehow lost weapons on the battle field tonight."

Michelangelo widened his eyes before grinning hugely.

"Dude. You're kidding me."

Donatello put an arm around his brother's shoulders.

"No, Mikey. Enjoy."

Michelangelo didn't need to be told twice. He pointed at his defeated brothers with two shaking fingers.

"You lost your weapons! I can't believe it! Looooooosers!"

The orange-clad turtle rolled his shell on the floor, laughing.

"Hey! Hey! Leo! Raph! Maybe you should have focused more! Ninja are supposed to focus, you know? At least, true ninja do… May I mention that _I_ never lost one of my weapons?"

Leonardo had crossed his arms and was enduring patiently Michelangelo's teasing, although his red cheeks betrayed the fact that he wasn't as detached as he would have liked.

"Mikey, I swear…" Raphael growled, fuming.

"Come on, Raph. Don't _lose_ your temper too!" Michelangelo exclaimed, still roaring with laughter.

"MIKEY! I'm going to…"

But they never knew what Raphael was going to do, because Leonardo finally decided that he had had enough and stepped forward.

"Okay, okay, it's funny, we're totally humiliated, hooray. Now could we please focus on the important part, which is that our weapons are on the loose? We searched everywhere. Someone must have taken them."

Michelangelo wiped out his tears of laughter and Raphael kept a wary eye on him. If he dared to make another joke…

Donatello stretched and sat at his desk, typing swiftly on his keyboard.

"I'll check the police records, see if someone has reported the discovery of ancient and priceless Japanese weapons in this area of New York City. But it's the middle of the night, we probably won't learn anything until tomorrow morning."

Leonardo and Raphael exchanged a glance.

"Let's try it anyway," Leonardo said in a high-pitched voice.

"Yeah. The sooner, the better, right?" Raphael added helpfully.

Donatello tilted his head.

"You don't want to tell Splinter," he stated.

"Nope," Raphael said.

"You got that right," Leonardo added.

Michelangelo chuckled.

"I can't blame you. He's going to kill you."

"Not literally," Raphael grumbled.

Donatello shook his head.

"Well, I'm sorry to report that the police have heard nothing."

Leonardo paced.

"Okay. So whoever took them either kept them or gave them to someone who's not from the police."

"We have a lot of potential thieves," Donatello noticed. "New York City is a populated city."

"But there weren't that many people near the building we fought on," Leonardo replied. "Apart from a lot of Foot ninja."

Leonardo watched his brothers.

"Who's in for a surprise visit to the Shredder? Stealth and reckon only, of course."

"I knew tonight's patrol had gone too easy," Donatello muttered.

* * *

"Master Shredder. The Foot soldiers you sent have come back."

The terrifying and glorious Shredder stoop up from his throne.

"Excellent. Have the turtles been disposed of?"

"Uh," the Foot soldier said. "Their leader is better suited to give you the details."

Then he disappeared behind a rather battered-looking Foot. Shredder growled.

"Master," the new Foot soldier said, falling to his knees. "The turtles escaped us. But I have good news for you."

Shredder advanced towards him.

"Then tell me this news. Quickly."

"Two of the turtles were searching for their weapons," the Foot soldier whispered.

Shredder bent forward.

"And do you have these weapons?"

"No. We believe that a homeless person took them."

Near the window entrance – Leonardo always wondered why the Foot hadn't sealed it off already, it was so obvious – the turtles soaked the conversation like sponges.

"Did you find him?" Shredder said menacingly.

"Yes. But he hasn't them anymore."

Shredder growled.

"Stop wasting my time. Do you know where these weapons are, yes or no?"

The Foot soldier whimpered.

"Yes, Master Shredder. There is a Middle Ages convention in New York City tonight, with a weapons' exhibition…"

Shredder casually leaned forward and lovingly stroked the Foot soldier's throat with his gauntlet.

"Get to the point."

"The homeless person sold the weapons to an enthusiast on his way to the convention," the Foot soldier answered hurriedly. "That's where the weapons are now."

Shredder stood up, releasing him.

"Finally. Then let's send a group of Foot ninja here…"

"Uh, most respected Master Shredder…" The first Foot ninja interrupted timidly. "The previous group is still recovering…"

"Another group."

"They're busy stealing elsewhere…uh… I meant, getting back what's yours, Master," the Foot ninja quickly corrected.

"Then send Bradford and Xever."

"They are on a formation in Japan. You sent them here after their last defeat against the turtles, wise Master…"

Shredder roared.

"Is there anyone in this building who can go on a mission tonight?"

The Foot soldier didn't answer immediately.

"Maybe the cleaning team?" He finally said hesitantly. "They arrive at 5 a.m."

Shredder watched him furiously, and the ninja cowered. He could have punished him for his stupidity, but he wasn't in the mood.

"Why am I surrounded with incompetents?" He roared.

"Like master, like servants," Raphael whispered from his observation point, attracting a glare from Leonardo who didn't like when they spoke during stealth missions. Especially not when their most dangerous enemy was only meters below.

Luckily, Shredder was speaking too and didn't seem to hear him.

"Very well. I'll go myself. I love the Middle Ages. The peasants had a natural respect for knights in armor at the time."

* * *

"A Middle Ages convention?" Michelangelo asked when they were safely away from the Foot stronghold. "Great!"

"If they mean the European Middle Ages, your weapons aren't appropriate," Donatello frowned.

"We couldn't care less, Donnie," Raphael said. "Let's just take them back."

"Before Shredder arrives, preferably," Michelangelo added.

"Let's go, guys. Donnie, do you have the address?"

"Most certainly, my dear brother. This way."

Going to the convention was easy. Coming in was manageable.

Taking the weapons back was bound to be trickier, considering they were now in the hands of two wannabe knights in armor fighting inside a circle delimited by haystacks. A jester was commenting the show.

"Their grasp is all wrong," Leonardo noticed, disgusted. "What a disgrace."

"That's all you have to say? Their stances are wrong. Their moves are wrong. Everything about them is wrong," Raphael added sharply. "Especially the fact that they have _our_ weapons. This one is very, very wrong."

"Well, that's what happens when you leave such precious items without supervision," Michelangelo chuckled. They go to people who appreciate them more."

Leonardo glared at him. Donatello smiled and patted his brother's shell.

"Don't worry, Leo. He'll ultimately stop teasing you. In a decade or so."

The blue-clad turtle sighed.

"What's your plan?" Raphael asked, focusing on the fight in front of him. "We beat them up and take back what's ours?"

"No," Leonardo answered, watching a display in a corner. People were too engrossed in the fight to pay attention to it. "We blend in. Mikey, you're keeping watch. Donnie, we'll need your help."

* * *

"Squire Donnie, can you work faster?" Raphael asked.

"Raph, shut up. I'm doing my best."

"I'm not sure it's conventional," Leonardo remarked. "Do you think it's conventional?"

"You're turtles. You have shells. How could it be conventional?"

"At least, make sure we're not recognizable."

"It goes without saying. Now let me work in peace."

The three turtles were hiding in a back room. Donatello was helping Leonardo and Raphael to put on as many parts of the previously displayed armors as they could.

"There you go," Donatello finally stated, moving backwards to admire his handiwork. "Be especially careful with the helmets."

Leonardo and Raphael walked a few steps.

"It's so uncomfortable," Raphael complained. "How could the Middle Ages knights fight with this?"

"Training, I suppose," Leonardo answered. "Hurry, it will be our turn soon."

Outside, the fight was over. The wielder of Leonardo's katana was raising his arm in victory.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, acclaim our winner!" The jester exclaimed.

As the crowd did so, Leonardo and Raphael came closer to the center of the room.

"Do we have other volunteers to offer us a fight with these deliciously exotic weapons?" The jester asked, delighted.

"Deliciously exotic weapons?" Raphael gritted. "I'll show you…"

"Hush, Raph," Leonardo whispered, before answering the jester's question. "Yes! We do!" He shouted, uneasy at the thought of being at the center of everyone's attention.

If it wasn't already too late, he would have regretted this stupid plan.

"Come closer!" The jester told them.

As the two turtles approached him, he whispered to them.

"The rules are simple: display as much skill as you can. Don't take unnecessary risks, we don't want you to get injured. We're all here for the show!"

The previous fighters handed them the katana and the sai they had used. Leonardo and Raphael took them with great relief.

"You're finally back to Daddy," Raphael whispered lovingly to his sai.

Leonardo said nothing and surreptitiously wiped the handle of his sword. He was sure these naïve humans hadn't taken proper care of it. He would have to remedy that later.

The two turtles began fighting. Despite the heavy armors, their mastery was obvious. They somehow managed to move gracefully while attacking and blocking. The excited shouts were soon replaced by awed whispers. Some people took their cell phones out of their pockets.

"Leo, they are filming us!" Raphael whispered.

"I know. Don't lose your helmet and we'll be fine."

"Oh, fine. Then let's give them a decent show."

Raphael swirled and landed a blow on Leonardo's armor, making his brother wince. The crowd roared. Leonardo glared at his brother.

"Raph, we're supposed to just pretend to be fighting!"

"I'm just pretending, Leo. Or you would already be lying on the cold, hard floor."

Leonardo's eyes narrowed.

"Oh really? You want to play? Fine by me!"

Leonardo launched forward and grasped Raphael's arm, making him spin. His brother growled and aimed at Leonardo's armored feet. The katana wielder jumped to avoid the blow and Raphael sent his arm at his head.

"Guys, what are you doing?" Donatello whispered, safely hidden behind a curtain. "You're supposed to end the fight and discreetly go away! It doesn't matter who the winner is!"

Of course, his brothers couldn't hear him. But Donatello had a feeling that they wouldn't have listened to him anyway.

"Donnie, what's the matter?" Michelangelo asked, appearing next to his brother.

" _Your_ brothers are lost in one of their little competitions," Donatello sighed. "I don't think their timing could be worse if they tried. What about Shredder?"

"He's there."

"WHAT?"

"Relax, bro. He's stuck in the middle of a crowd of adoring fans. Apparently, they are in love with his armor. Five more minutes and they will erect a monument in his glory."

"I'm sure he's loving this."

"Apparently, he does. He didn't kill anybody yet. But we should still hurry."

"Don't tell me. Tell those two morons. I can't believe I'm related to them."

"No problem, Donnie. I've got this."

Jumping on the ceiling, Michelangelo moved right above his armored brothers and used his nunchucks to catch their arms and raise them. Leonardo's katana and Raphael's sai crossed in a last move.

"Time's up, guys," he whispered.

Leonardo and Raphael exchanged a sheepish glance. Maybe they had exaggerated, but the fight had been so absorbing. The armors had been a nice bonus, forcing them to adapt their moves. They had thoroughly enjoyed it.

"And it's a draw!" The jester exclaimed. "This was an amazing show! Please reward our combatants with a well-deserved ovation!"

Leonardo and Raphael bowed as much as they could within their armors. Donatello shook his head and threw a smoke bomb. It was time to leave the stage.

The four turtles disappeared, leaving behind them two empty armors, a baffled crowd and a half-mad and half-delighted Shredder – a combination the Foot soldiers would learn to dread in the days to come.

* * *

Next morning, Michelangelo was distractedly watching the news when something caught his attention.

"Hey guys! Look! Raph and Leo are on TV!" Michelangelo exclaimed.

" _What?_ " His three brothers said, hurrying to the living room.

And indeed, the TV screen displayed a replay of Leonardo and Raphael's fight.

"You're not recognizable," Donatello noticed. "I must say I'm proud of my work."

"Of course we're not. But I didn't think it would make the news," Leonardo growled. "Switch to another channel."

"Not yet, Leo. I want to admire this show. You don't get to be cheered by a crowd every day when you're a mutant turtle, right?" Raphael replied happily.

"Don't be stupid. We're toast if Sensei sees that."

"If I see what, Leonardo?"

Both Leonardo and Raphael jumped. Of course, their beloved father and very stealthy ninja master had to choose this moment to make an appearance.

"Ma-ma-master Splinter! What a nice surprise!" Leonardo stuttered, moving to hide the TV screen.

Splinter raised his eyebrows and bent to the right to watch the screen. Raphael quickly moved to block his field of vision, putting an arm across Leonardo's shoulders.

"That's nothing, Sensei," he said. "Just bros watching a nice historical TV show."

Splinter extended his arms and grasped the delicate neck skin of his obviously dishonest sons between his long fingers. He held for a few seconds before releasing them. They both collapsed on the floor with a groan.

The ninja master looked at the screen. He knew that fighting style. He knew these weapons… He looked at his sons, not bothering to hide his displeasure.

"Leonardo? What is the meaning of this?"

"Do you really want to know?" Leonardo asked hopefully, stroking his neck. "We're fine. You're fine. Everything is fine."

"Yes, I do," Splinter answered sternly.

Leonardo sighed. He had an inkling that his father wasn't going to like this particular story.

* * *

"Where are they?"

Leonardo and Raphael stomped in the living room, looking extremely annoyed. Michelangelo, who had been watching TV, looked at his brother with a puzzled expression.

"My katana and Raph's sai!" Leonardo exclaimed, exasperated. We left them in the dojo, and they've disappeared!"

"Again?" Michelangelo asked, tilting his head in amusement.

Leonardo narrowed his eyes at him and Raphael clenched his fists. Obviously, they didn't find it funny.

"We need them. Sensei's…uh… _special_ training begins in five minutes. And he's already mad enough at us," Leonardo said, wincing at the thought.

"So, if it's another one of your pranks…" Raphael said through gritted teeth.

"I didn't do anything!" Michelangelo quickly exclaimed, throwing up his hands.

Leonardo and Raphael watched him for long seconds while Michelangelo blinked at them like a deer caught in the headlights.

"I think he's telling the truth," Leonardo finally stated.

"Hmm," Raphael slowly agreed.

"Of course I am!" Michelangelo answered, reassured that he wasn't going to be crushed by both Raphael and Leonardo. These two were a force to be reckoned with when they teamed up in this sort of situation.

Not that Michelangelo willingly angered both of them at the same time. Well. Not often. At least not too often…

Okay. It happened.

"Leo? Raph?"

Donatello's head appeared in his lab's doorframe.

"If you're searching for your weapons, I have them."

Leonardo turned to his purple-clad brother, surprised but relieved. Raphael rubbed his hands, ready to express his disapproval in an adequately painful way now that he had a guilty target.

"Donnie! You're the one who took them? Why?" Leonardo asked.

Donatello exited his lab, holding Raphael's sai and Leonardo's katana in their sheaths.

"I've been giving some thought to what happened. Although I don't mind an interesting adventure, I don't exactly want a repetition of this."

"So you seized Leo's swords and Raph's sai so they couldn't lose them again?" Michelangelo asked, looking quizzically at his purple-clad brother. "Sure, that's efficient, but I don't think they will agree on that plan."

Donatello rolled his eyes.

"I did far better, Mikey."

He handed the weapons to their respective owners.

"Here. I put a chip under the handles' wrappings. This way, we can trace them with our T-phones. In the highly probable case you lose them again someday."

Leonardo and Raphael exchanged a sheepish glance.

"That's…actually a clever idea," Leonardo admitted, while Raphael reluctantly growled his approval.

Donatello watched his brothers smugly.

" _Of course_ it is."

**The End**


End file.
